Forever and Never
by v03-R.N
Summary: Sequel to Dreams of an Angel. After a thousand chances... a thousand failures... a thousand wasted lifetimes, his answer is now within reach.
1. Prologue 1: Meeting

Yo, I'm back again. Anyway, as you may have read from the rather short intro this is basically the sequel to DoA so yeah I'm continuing it just as promised since I did pass and I am right now currently an R.N. (an unemployed R.N. still looking for work, but an R.N. none the less). Anyway, here's chapter… err… Prologue 1?

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PROLOGUE 1/5 – MEETING**

He stares upon the figure of the aged man that rested on the thin futon before him; the rasping of the old one's breath accompanied by the almost in sync heaving of his chest filled the small wooden house with the ominous signs of death. The sickly male's body and extremities were abnormally thin. It was as if he had not seen the sight of neither food nor water for weeks though a small cup of porridge could clearly be seen near his pillow. His hair that was once as black as coal had withered to nothing. His ribs were protruding, the veins that contained what remained of his life blood were visible as day, his mouth smelled of decay and his skin was as dry as autumn leaves. The man's blood-shot eyes stared back at him, its surface reflecting the image of his hair that was the color of blood, the bandages that covered most of his body and face, and the menacing scythe that he held in his hand. Anyone that didn't have a heart of stone or at least had the smallest shred of humanity in them would've felt pity upon seeing the sight of such a defeated figure. Yet his left eye, the only visible part of his covered face, gave no such indication. That left orb of his that seemed to have been a window into the endless abyss of nothingness refused to give even the tiniest glimmer of mercy or pity. They remained as they had always been – unfeeling, uncaring even in the presence of a person on his deathbed… a person whose continued existence in this world, no matter how faint it may have been, was a miracle onto itself.

Actually… that miracle was the reason why he came here.

After all… he had come here with the intention of putting out the miracle flame that kept this man alive and finally put him to rest.

That was his duty.

He had seen so many like this in the past before.

This one was no different.

'It's time, isn't it?' the aged man utters, his voice so broken that it could barely be understood.

He nods and upon seeing his answer the male's expression is torn between relief and sadness.

This man had staved off death's call even if it meant suffering many pain-ridden days and nights. He had denied himself eternal peace for he feared of what might become of the family that he would end up leaving behind. His loyal wife, the black haired woman who had fallen asleep beside him due to the heavy fatigue brought about by having to take care of him; his young son who had just come of age… what would become of them if he, the breadwinner of the family, were to leave them behind.

The aged man looks at him with pleading eyes, begging him to prolong his stay on this green earth.

He had seen that look before.

Many others had given him that same look.

This one was no different.

He shakes his head, denying the old one his request. This man had already exceeded the time that had been allotted to him. Most men, whether their time had come to an end or was cut short by an unfortunate incident, would immediately let go of this world without much fuss. But from time to time, there would be men like this one who found it hard to leave this world and defy the will of heaven itself. Whether it was because of earthly possessions, family, loved ones, revenge, unfulfilled dreams or simply fear of what lay beyond this life, he didn't care. It was all the same to him. They all had rules that they had to follow… even him.

He slowly raises his scythe as the aged man closes his eyes while clutching tightly at his wife's hand, the last words to be uttered by the male's lips whispered gently as he sees the blade brought down to claim his soul.

'…Goodbye.'

* * *

He stands at the edge of a far away cliff. Below him, not far from where he stood, he sees the small wooden shack that he had visited just moments ago. Though he was a good distance away he could still faintly hear the anguish filled screams that echoed within that pitiful shelter. The newly deceased male's spouse and son must have just found out about their beloved head-of-houses passing. Their screams however were soon drowned out by the cry of the cicadas that thrived within the confines of the lush greenery behind him. He turns to leave but…

'Is someone there?' he hears a feminine voice call out.

He looks ahead and sees a young nymph, a delicate female with hair the color of the deep ocean. Her fair skin shone like luminescent silk upon the lunar moons rays, a beauty that stood out despite the tattered and ragged yukata that she wore. But her eyes seemed to be an oddity. As enchanting as they were to look at, they gave not a single glimmer of life. They were empty… like his.

It didn't take long for him to notice how this girl stumbled as she tried to feel her way out of her surroundings with her hands. She didn't even seem to bother to look at where she was going. This girl… she was blind.

'Is someone there?' she calls out again and just the same he refuses to answer her. He stares at the girl intently, and with that simple gaze he is able to decipher the limits of this girl's life. Her time had not yet come.

Being that he had no further business in this place, he deems it best to leave without further ado. But as he was about to do so he feels the girl's hand grab his own, a gesture that catches him off guard but was not entirely new to him. Normally, people should not have been able to see him – much less touch him. His existence was supposed to be analogous to that of a specter, someone who watched behind the shadows unbeknownst to the living populace that went about with their everyday life. But there were people like this one who were exceptions to the rule, people who had the uncanny ability to attune themselves to the spiritual plane and thus could make themselves aware of his presence. Though rare, events like this had happened to him before. Unfortunately, such incidents never did produce any fond memories although he himself was not exactly the nostalgic type. All of those events had followed the same pattern, the moment that they came into contact with him and felt the aura of death that enveloped his existence they would quickly recoil in fear like a frightened deer running from a hungry lion.

This girl would probably do the same thing.

This one was no different.

But to his surprise this girl instead of running from fear gently tightens her firm grip on him, a gesture that prompts the apathetic look on his face to skew ever so slightly. The girl turns her head towards him and for someone like her who had not been given the gift of sight, it was disconcerting for him how she looked at him so intensely with those blind orbs of hers. But what bewildered him the most was the words that she uttered soon after…

'Why are you sad?' she asked, a query that greatly confused him. He was, after all, someone who shouldn't have had any sort of emotion to speak of. So for this girl to have asked such an odd question came as quite the surprise to him.

And then… as if this girl had not surprised him enough… she does the one thing that he least expected…

She smiles at him.

A smile so radiant that it would've outshone the burning sun. He had never seen something as beautiful as this.

'It's alright for people to cry when they feel sad. If you want to, I can sit with you and keep you company until you feel better.'

And with those simple words, his eyes that had for so long been empty and void of any life gave off a faint glimmer of light.

This one… was different.

* * *

As you can see from the title, this is basically the 1st part of a 5 part prologue series that will be the intro of this sequel. So why go through all the trouble of doing this and why can't I just jump straight to the 1st chap. Three reasons people: (1) NBA Playoffs are here so I just can't bring myself to do long chapters. (2) Still looking for a job. And (3) I'm pretty sure that this Prologue will be very "informative" down the line… in other words: THEY'RE IMPORTANT SO READ THEM DAMMIT! Well, Amigos until next time. RnR.

**RABID LAKER FAN to SMELTICS FAN NOTE:**

To all the fans of THOSE GUYS… Remember 08 you Mofo's! Well just so you know, I'm prayin that the Green Scum of the Earth (AKA: Boston Celtics) get past the magic so that we can do a rematch. It's high time that we finally get to pay you b!tchez back! We were planning to kick your collective azzez last year but I won't fault you guyz cos KG was hurt! But this time no more excuses! We're going to prove to you fools that payback really is a B!TCH! BUCK FOSTON! LA BE REPEATIN MF'ers.


	2. Prologue 2: Festival

Queensbridge!AHAHAHAHA! LAKERS WIN BABY! ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE! Man, my head hurts from all the beer that I drank yesterday… BUT I DON'T F&CKING CARE! I was in such a celebratory mood that I decided to post the second prologue 1 week ahead of schedule so you guyz better be thanking the LAKESHOW for this!

Dumbledork: don't worry man, it'll all make sense after you read all five of 'em so don't sweat it.

Anyway, to commemorate the lakers two-peat (going on three-peat) here's prologue numero dos.

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PROLOGUE 2/5 – FESTIVAL**

He watches the great bonfire burn from a top the tall hill where he stood. The dancing of the crowd, the boisterous laughter of the children as they ran from stall to stall, the bright lanterns and wild beating of the ceremonial drums, all of these things were truly the trademark of a joyous festival.

Though he had seen quite a number of festivals before, this was the first time that he had actually observed something like this so intently, the first time that he had actually noticed how happy this people all seemed to be… the first time that he actually cared.

Beside him was the blind female that he had met just a few weeks ago sitting quietly on the soft ground. This girl had intrigued him enough to prompt him to pay her regular visits. They would chat for as long as the girl could stay awake. Their conversations were long and were mostly about the simplest of things yet neither he nor she would show even the tiniest hint of boredom. Their topics seemed mundane; however, it did show the difference between their worlds and how they viewed them.

Though she had been exiled in darkness for the entirety of her life, she spoke fondly of the world around her. She smiled at every laugh that she heard, listened intently to the wind and the birds, and felt the rough texture of the trees and the relative smoothness of the flowing water from the river with her hands. She enthusiastically talked about the sounds of the world and would constantly ask him to tell her about all the things that surrounded them. To her, that darkness was nothing more than a canvass wherein she could paint the unseen world around her.

To her, life was vibrant, ever-flowing, and beautiful.

To her, life had meaning.

On the other hand, he was the complete opposite.

Though his eyes were wide open and had seen a thousand times over all the wonders that this world had to offer, this things did not excite him at the very least. This world to him was empty, an insignificant speck made out of rock and water that floated in the vast cosmos. To him, life was simply borrowed time rented by the inhabitants of this world and he was the designated time keeper that made sure that no one would end up spending more than what they were given.

To him, life was stagnant, empty, something that started simply for the sake of starting and ended simply for the sake of ending.

To him, life was devoid of any true meaning and to think otherwise was nothing more than a delusion brought about by a confused mind that wanted to see something that wasn't there to begin with.

But still…

Even with the great difference of values and perceptions that they had…

He was still drawn to her like a moth to a flickering candle.

As to why this was so, even he didn't know.

The girl, just as she always did, was intently listening to the sounds that echoed from the gathering below. The smile on her face was as bright as the sun as she heard the joyful voices of the people. As he looked upon her smiling figure, the strands of her blue hair cascading in the wind, he couldn't help but think at how this girl, even with the tattered and ragged clothes that she wore, was more enchanting to look at than any of the other young maidens that walked through the lamp-lit streets as they showcased their expensive kimonos to the public.

'The children sound more excited than usual, I guess the fireworks are going to come any moment now.'

And just as she had predicted, the two of them quickly hear the sound of the lit fuses going off. One by one the small rockets from below quickly climb the heavens and soon after they paint the night sky with an explosion of colors.

'I've always wondered what fireworks looked like. My mother used to try and describe it to me but I never really could grasp it.' she tells him before a dreamlike smile crosses her lips. 'But… they must be really beautiful to be able to make everyone that sees them so happy.'

Those words and the bluntness of her reality cut through him like a knife. Though he did not care much about fireworks and the like, the fact that this girl could not behold something that she wanted irritated him.

No… that wasn't it.

He wasn't irritated per se but rather it was something else. This feeling… was this pity that he felt? Was he actually feeling sorry for this girl?

'I hate to be a bother but could you describe the fireworks for me, please.' she asked him, that smile never leaving her lips.

Yes, he very well could have granted her that request. But instead… as completely out-of-character as it was for him to do… he goes a step further.

He reaches out to her hand, their fingers intertwined as he slowly looks up at the beautifully colored night sky. And in that moment he allowed her to see through his eyes the world that she could only dream of seeing. He feels her hand tighten around his as they gaze upon the countless fireworks that resembled spring flowers in full bloom.

'Thank you.' she whispers as small drops of tears fall on their joined hands.

He was wrong…

This was not pity that he felt, it was something else entirely. As to what it actually was he really didn't know but he didn't dislike it. Truth be told, he actually enjoyed this unfamiliar feeling…

And so they sat there, their hands clasped tightly together as more fireworks were set loose. And for the first time, on this day of many first for him, he was able to conjure up a smile. For some reason he felt that as long as this girl was with him, this would not be the last time that he did.

* * *

Rather short but that's how prologues are supposed to be, right? Well, Lakers are the champs, Celtics go home crying, RuPaul Pierce is currently wheeling his flopping carcass back to beantown and I just posted another chapter… Yep, all is right with the world again. RnR and when you finish reading this chapter don't forget… QUEENSBRIDGE!


	3. Prologue 3: Family

Yo! How you guyz been doin? As for me, I've been keeping tabs on the FA signings so I can get some sort of idea as to what the competition is gonna look like next year. Oh, by the way. I know this might come off as just another rant but allow me to say this one thing: FAWK LeBron James (AKA: LeCoward, Lebitch, LeDouche, Lelapdog). To think that I actually supported that MF'er! I'm ashamed to have even thought that this narcissist actually had a chance to equal or even surpass his Airness! Sorry Le BJ but great players don't go ring chasing when their 25 FUCKING YEARS OLD! But you know what, that don't matter. You know why? Because even if you become DWade's Robin (C. Bosh in the mean time being Batgirl), you still ain't sniffing no rings next year. To all the CLE fans that had been wronged by this A-Hole – WE GOT THIS! THE 3-HEAT WILL NOT STOP THE 3-PEAT!

Okay, excuse me for that but I just had to get that outta my chest. Anyway, here's Part 3 of the Prologue.

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PROLOGUE 3/5 – FAMILY**

'Please, spare me… I beg you…' the aged woman in front of him said in a sickly tone, her old eyes starting to grow wet with tears as she continued to plead her case to him. 'I have no qualms about dying… but please, allow me to see my son just one last time.'

She grabs hold of him, her tears streaming down her cheeks like a flood of sorrow. The woman's body trembled as she begged him, her thin limbs and fragile frame looking as if it were about to give way at any moment.

In the past, such actions no matter how pitiful they were would not have deterred him from doing his duty. Countless others had done this acts as well, hoping that he would show them mercy, yet that did not stop him from cutting them down and severing their ties with this world.

But recently… things had changed.

He… had changed.

The sharp scythe that he wielded in his hand slowly fades into thin air as he turns his back on this old woman and proceeds to exit that small shanty that housed this sickly being. And upon seeing his answer to her request, the aged female quickly broke down into tears, sobbing and crying with her hands over her trembling mouth as she repetitively whispered words of thanks aimed at this harbinger of death that had showed her mercy.

As he walked away from that ill-constructed shelter where his temporarily pardoned target lived, from a distance he sees the figure of a man that stood confidently. Though it was already night time and even with the man being a few meters away he could still see the sapphire-like orbs of this stranger that shone like blue flames as they stared straight at him. The two of them approached each other, not one of them uttering a single greeting or exchanging pleasantries. He stares intently at this man that stood before him. Clad in completely white garments and with long flowing hair that was as white as snow, this person was as much an oddity as he was.

This man was no stranger to him though…

He knew who this man was…

'So what Raphael told me was true then.' the man spoke. There was an air of authority in his voice that seemed to originate from something divine. It was apparent that this person was not human at all… far from it. This person was someone who was above humanity all together, a being whose existence surpassed even his own.

'If what I've heard from him is right, this is the eighth time that you've done this.'

He does not deny this man's statement for he knew it to be true.

'You do know that you have neither the right nor the authority to decide whether someone is worthy of having his or her life extended. You are here simply to carry out what you were tasked to do.'

His lips remained silent. He knew that all too well.

But still…

'I'll let you off with a warning this time, but make sure that this is the last that I hear of this. You out of anyone should know how very lenient the creator has been towards you. I suggest that you do not abuse his kindness.'

And with that the man leaves him, allowing him time to contemplate about their brief discussion.

He knew that what he had been told was true. To sever the lives of those people who had overstayed their welcome on this green earth was the entire purpose of his existence. But still, this business of death had suddenly grown distasteful to him. For so long he had considered himself above emotions such as pity and mercy, the countless men and women whose lives he had reaped would testify to that statement. But too many things had happened recently that has prompted him to have a change of heart, a surprising revelation considering the fact that for so long he had thought that he had been made without one.

Everything had changed.

This was no longer just a simple matter of doing ones duty… not anymore.

* * *

'So you came…' the blind blue-haired maiden in front of him spoke as she patiently sat on the bare ground of that hill where the two of them had first met. Her lips slowly curved to form that trademark smile of hers while her resplendent face shone with the rays of that ever so magnificent white sphere that sailed the sky. Her fingers held a batch of flowers that she had undoubtedly done her best to pick as the sound of the cicadas from the forest greenery behind her kept her company. 'It's been three days since the last time that you came to see me so I was starting to worry.'

The female slowly holds out her hand as if waiting for him to take it and without a moment's hesitation he obliges her. They both tighten their grasp on each other as the blind nymph's smile grows wider; it reminded him so much of that night when both of their paths had crossed. It had been almost a year since then and yet his recollection of that meeting of theirs had never once dulled in his mind. After all, it was the first truly fond memory that he had. How could he ever forget that day… that moment… when everything began to change.

And the one who started it all was this gentle maiden who sat in front of him.

Slowly, he feels her hand guiding his own down to her abdomen, her belly that had grown exponentially ever since that fateful night when the two of them finally became one.

'I felt the baby move a little while ago.' she informs him as she allows his hand to feel it as well, the gentle movement of a child… of a life.

Inside of this girl was a life that he had helped to create. It was truly the peak of utmost irony for him, the deliverer of death and sorrow upon humanity, to partake in bringing a life into this world. And yet, he would not have wanted the threads of fate to have twisted in any other way. It was because of her and this child that he began to see the world in an entirely different perspective. Everything around him had suddenly taken on a more vibrant tone and was practically overflowing with beauty. To him, life was no longer the stagnant and meaningless thing that he once viewed it to be. Because of her and this child, he finally started to understand why it started and the meaning of the sorrow that accompanied it when it finally came to an end. And because of that same reason, he was quickly finding it harder to stomach his duty.

'What's the matter? Is something wrong?' she asked him.

Her question did not surprise him one bit. She always did have a knack of being able to tell when something was bothering him. But even so it never ceased to amaze him how she, even without being able to see the troubled look on his face, was able to tell when something about him was amiss. Though she did not have the gift of sight, she could still read him like an open book.

He does not reply and instead he simply chooses to rest his head on her abdomen as he continues to feel for the pulsating life within her womb. As he did so, a frightening thought crosses his mind…

He knew that the time would come when these shining days of joy will end. Both she and their child were still bound by the laws of mortality and the day would eventually come when the two of them will have to join that ever flowing stream of souls that ran through the very heart of this world. And when that time comes, he would once again be alone, exiled in solitude and loneliness with only their memories to keep him company. He could never join them there for he was an entity who existed outside the confines of that river of spirits.

Or if worse comes to worst…

What if she and their child, like many others before them, were to resist death's call?

Would he be able to fulfil his duty then?

Could he actually bring himself to kill this woman and this child that meant everything to him?

The mere thought of such a sickening prospect completely revolted him. He couldn't stand to think of such thoughts, much less imagine it. He didn't want to continue to delve in such depressing matters. Right now, the most important thing was what was in front of him.

The past cannot be changed…

And there was no sense in worrying about the future until it actually came…

All he could do was enjoy the present… his family.

* * *

Okay, a bit mushy but can't be helped because it had to be. So we've had three of the five prologues posted, I'm sure that some of you are starting to get some semblance of an idea as to where I'm going with this but if not then don't stress. To be honest, I'm actually finished with the Prologues 4 and 5 (I've just been caught up with all the FA signings) but hopefully I can post them up here soon. RnR please.


	4. Prologue 4: Sorrow

Hey, I'm back. Sorry it took me so long to update. Seriously, trying to look for a job in todays economy SUCKS! But I digress. The LakeShow's Off-season is over at last. Hopefully, with the Barnes signing plus our two promising rooks we can finally have some semblance of a bench next season. Also, the Pac-May fight of the decade is OFF (again). Floyd, since you're on vacation, how about you try and find some balls to fight my boy while you're at it! Now I have to settle for Plasterito in Nov. How in the hell am I suppose to make some damn money when almost everyone here in my neighborhood is gonna be betting the damn farm on Pac! But I digress (again). So here's prologue numero quatro for your reading enjoyment!

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PROLOGUE 4/5 - SORROW**

He stares upon it, that horrifying sight.

The blind nymph's body fallen on the ground and covered in dirt. Her hair disheveled in torrents, its blue hue tainted with crimson red. Her arms and legs covered in bruises and wounds as a sharp dagger lay embedded deep in her chest, piercing her heart and forever stopping it from beating. Her life fluids pouring out from that fatal injury and soaking the place where her body rested in blood.

To see such a scene was too shocking, even for him. Though he had witnessed death countless times before, this was the first time that he felt like this...

Sickened.

Repulsed.

Angered.

Saddened.

He wanted to scream, to shout every curse that he knew... but not a sound could be heard from his mouth.

He wanted to shed an eternity's worth of tears, to cry blood from his eyes that would be enough to drown every living soul on this god-forsaken planet... but his eyes remained dry.

It felt like like he was quickly losing his grip on his sanity, like he was going crazy. He was barely aware of his surroundings, barely aware of the presence of his blue-haired daughter that had yet to even reach the fifth year of her life as she cried herself hoarse by the side of her mother's dead body, barely aware of the villagers that encircled them but dared not to come any closer for they were stricken with fear as their sights beheld the figure of a demon whose hair was dyed in blood and was clothed in black garments while the majority of his face was covered by strips of bandages.

As he raised his head, deviating his sight from the corpse of the fallen girl for the first time in order to look upon the flock of people that surrounded them, he sees his image reflected in the surface of their eyes as their faces were painted with terror. It seemed that something inside of him had been born. It was something that was dark, ugly, filled with rage, and it was causing him to become visible to this people.

'You see! That girl really was allies with a demon! We were right to kill her!'

'She was the reason for the terrible famine that the village has suffered!'

He could clearly hear those blasphemous words as they spoke them amongst themselves. And with each slanderous remark that they made he could feel the dark abomination that had been born within him become even more fierce.

'Kill the demon!'

'Yes! There are many of us here! We can definitely overwhelm it!'

'Yes! Kill the demon and that witch's child!'

The last of the villagers battlecries imediately caught his attention. This insects had already taken so much from him, he will not allow them to take what little he had left.

He slowly strides towards the direction of his lamenting daughter. He kneels in front of his child while she continues to shed her tears of loss as she tries to speak to him though her sobs were making it harder for her to do so.

'Mama is... Mama is-...'

He suddenly embraces her, not wanting to hear the truth from his own child's mouth. He couldn't bring himself to hear it... to face the reality that the one girl who had changed him, the first person that he had ever truly loved... was gone.

He would never see her smile at him again... never be able to touch her soft skin again... to hear her loving voice again... to kiss her sweet lips again.

That truth slashed through him like a jagged knife. These people, the ones who were responsible for her death, these lowly pond scum that had the audacity to take her away from him. He will not allow them top go unscathed... unpunished. He would be the one to make sure of that. But death alone was simply too good of a fate for this filthy creatures. No, he would not give them reprieve by simply killing them. Instead, he was going to give them something that would make them regret what they had done.

A fate worse than a thousand deaths.

He whispers to his child to close her eyes and cover her ears. He instructs her that she musn't move from the spot where she stood no matter what she may hear. He tells her all of this things in order to shield whatever little innocence that she had not yet lost. She had already witnessed how her mother had been mercillesly killed before her very eyes, he did not want her to also see how he was about to turn into a monster.

His daughter follows his every word, closing her eyes and covering her ears with both her hands. He kisses his child's forehead, it would be the last act of kindness that he would show in front of these people. He slowly but surely inches himself closer to the foolish mob who held tightly onto their iron picks and hoes, thinking that these man-made tools would be enough to rescue them from his wrath.

They had no idea how wrong they were...

* * *

His blue-haired daughter cautiosly opens her eyes as her body continues to tremble like a fig. It seemed that the little girl's hands were not enough to shut out the screams of agonizing pain and nightmarish horror that flooded out from the villagers' mouths.

Countless bodies were scattered everywhere, laying motionless on the ground. Not a single scratch could be sen on the surface of their skin, and yet the look of emptiness in their eyes that had remained open was enough of a sign to be able to tell that something was terribly wrong. Though their hearts continued to beat and their life fluids remained flowing through their veins, it was clear that they were now nothing more than shells made out of flesh and bone.

And at the center of this collection of human mannequins was him as he cradled the lifeless vessel of the blind nymph in his arms. His anger had finally subsided, but instead of being filled with sorrow he felt a strange yet familiar feeling of emptiness inside of him. This hollowness, when exactly did he last feel this lack of emotion.

His daughter walks up to him. As she stares at him he suddenly sees reflected on the surface of his child's orbs a glimpse of his own eyes and immediately he understands... His eyes had reverted back to the time before he had met the blind nymph.

Eyes that neither rejected nor affirmed life...

Eyes that lacked emotion, anxiety, or inner conflict...

Eyes that some might even describe as those that can only belonging to a saint...

He was a fool to think, even hope, that someone like him who was put on this earth to cause sorrow had any right to happiness. There was nothing left for him. It was idiotic of him to beleive that he had a future to begin with.

Yes.

This was his fate.

This was his curse.

* * *

Four down, one to go. Again, don't worry if you're still not getting the connection between the prologues, you'll find that out soon enough. As for the last part of the prologue I'll hopefully be able to post it up soon so cross your fingers. And also, to those of you who have read my other fic Crossroads and are wondering if I'll still continue it, you don't have to worry since I have every intention to. Its just that Chapter 2 turned out to be the longest chapter that I have ever written... EVER! So my inner laziness tends to take over when I try to type it. But I'll post it (eventually). So RnR.


	5. Prologue 5: Consequence

WAZAAAA! The NBA season is almost upon us at last!

First off, let me apologize for the rather long intervals between updates. This prologues being as short as they are should have been finished like a month ago, but unfortunately I've been busy with work and shit so hope you guys understand. Anyway, I won't bore you would all the other BS that's been going on in my side of the world (mainly because their all either boxing or basketball related) so here's the last part of the Prologue!

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PROLOGUE 5/5 – CONSEQUENCE**

He sits inside that hollow hall that housed him; his neck, body, and limbs chained firmly to the ground and allowing him no escape. In his hand he held his trusted scythe that had been with him through thick and thin, his grip on its handle was as tight as that of a python holding its prey in a deadly embrace. He didn't want to part with it for it was the only thing that he had left. Reflected on its blade were the dots of light that came from the countless dimly lit candles that surrounded him. Their flickering flames seemingly serving as his jailers as their faint brightness illuminated his defeated figure. His crimson hair was disheveled, its red strands partially blocking his uncovered left eye that refused to look at the white clothed man that stood before him who was the only other sentient existence that occupied this empty place.

This man whose ashen-colored locks was comparable to that of smooth silk and eyes that shone like opals looked down upon him with a mixture of pity and disbelief.

'You know, never in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought that you'd be stupid enough to do something like this..!' he spoke in a candid manner to him though his voice still boomed like the splashing of a great tide onto a rocky shore. 'Back then you were always the one who was the most uptight when it came to abiding by the rules. And although you've become rather soft during this past few years it still took me by surprise when I heard that you actually did such a thing and without a single moment of hesitation or fear of the punishment that you would surely end up suffering… have you forgotten that doing such an unspeakable thing is the worst sin that someone of our kind could commit?'

Yes, he was very aware of not only that fact but also how it was the worst possible fate that anyone could suffer.

'Erasing a soul is a very serious offense. When a soul gets erased it doesn't return to the Lifestream or anywhere else for that matter, it simply disappears. To put it simply, it is the one true death… So for you to even consider sentencing a single soul, much less 52 souls, to a fate like that… well, it's no great wonder why those old geezers from the council blew their lids.

His ashen haired guest chuckles at that particular recollection, though he on the other hand remained as silent as ever.

'But still, all things considered, you got off relatively easy. Having to spend one millennia here for every one soul that you erased isn't really that bad. I mean, it'll definitely be boring sitting here and doing nothing but that's way better that getting erased yourself, right?'

His mouth refuses to move, a gesture that the man in front of him did not appreciate very much.

'Tsk! You're no fun. And here I was thinking that you might've actually changed ever since you met that blind girl.'

He glares at him; his left eye that had been void of any emotion for the majority of their conversation now swirled with a glint of anger in them. It was clear that he did not take too kindly to the words that this man had stated though it was fairly obvious that that it had been said in order provoke a reaction from him.

'Hey, easy now..! I was just making sure that you hadn't turned deaf since the last time that we met. And besides, I didn't volunteer to be the one to sentence you here simply because I wanted to tease you. Doing something like that is too childish, even for me.'

His guest slowly kneels to meet him at eye-level, the coy expression of playfulness in his face practically fading in an instant.

'The truth is that I wanted to ask you something… something that I didn't want the others to hear and that only you could answer.'

His guest stares at him intently while he reverts back to his uncaring state of mind.

'I've always wondered about it… why the Creator values humanity so much. Think about it… They lie, cheat, and kill one another for gain. They are selfish, greedy, ignorant, and have a great hole in their heart that seems almost impossible to fill. Many of them claim to know and speak the Creator's will even though the only thing that they hear is the sound of their own foolish agenda filled ego. Others have turned their back on him, and some have come as far as denying the Creator's very existence. They do not love the Creator as much as we do. And yet, even with all those flaws, he values them above all else… including us. Many of our kind have been perplexed by the Creator's infatuation towards this people, so much so that they have even rebelled against him in the past because of it. Back then you wondered about it too, am I right? And now, after what happened, I thought that maybe you've finally found the answer to that question.'

He could feel this man's eyes that resembled Opal gems staring at him, waiting for him to give a reply. But…

'…Unfortunately, it looks like you're not in the mood to answer any of my questions so I won't press the matter any further.' he sighed. 'I guess it's time for me to do what I was sent here for.'

Slowly, the ashen-haired man's left hand reaches toward his covered right eye, his fingers and nails passing through the bandage that lay over it like some sort of mist and cautiously reaching deep down onto his eye socket. A few seconds pass before he retracts his fingers and soon enough a small red orb that was the size of a human eye could be seen resting on his fingertips.

'You probably know the rules by now, but as part of protocol I'll repeat them to you anyway. For the crime of erasing the souls of 18 women and 34 men, 52 souls in total, the Creator and the holy council sentences you to 52,000 years of imprisonment inside this room of penance. You are therefore relieved of all your duties and stripped of the majority of your powers. For the duration of your punishment you will be unable to sustain your existence outside of this room and any attempt to leave this place will only lead to the subsequent erasure of you existence. In other words, this place will serve as both your prison and lifeline.'

After declaring his sentence, the man suddenly grins.

'But you know, it's still not too late. If you repent for what you did and beg for the forgiveness of the Council like you should've done in the first place, then I'm sure that the Creator would be kind enough to cut a quarter off of your sentence.'

He refuses to dignify his guest's offer with a response.

He regretted nothing. Seeing the faces of those people that had wronged him etched with torment was but a small reprieve from the pain that he felt. He also did not care if he had to spend eternity in this place for he had nothing to look forward to. Whether he was in here or outside it didn't really make much of a difference.

'I see… So that's your answer. I guess it was stupid of me to have offered that option since you were always stubborn to begin with.'

The man slowly turns his back to him and starts to leave. As he was about to close the gate of this prison he hears his visitor utter a few words of parting that somewhat eases his torment.

'Don't worry about your daughter; I made sure that she's been left in good hands.'

With that the gate to his prison is closed shut, leaving him by himself in this hollow room that would be his home for the foreseeable future.

And so he sits there at the center of that lonely prison, his body chained to the floor, his loyal scythe being the only thing that kept him company.

Seconds stretch on to minutes and minutes soon turn into hours. Before long he loses track of time completely, not knowing if night had fallen or if the day had finally begun. This place that seemed to exist outside the confines of the real world only magnified the grief that plagued him. At certain moments, just when he felt like he was about to go deaf due to the lack of sound, the silence of the room would be broken by the screams of the blind nymph whom he had failed to protect, her cries for help ringing in his ears as the image of her being stabbed in the chest is replayed constantly over the closed lids of his left eye. In time, this nightmarish visions and auditory hallucinations wear down on his being.

He had truly lost everything.

…

He hears it… the gentle creaking of the gate of his prison as it was slowly being forced open.

Was his sentence finally over?

He looks towards the entrance, expecting to see his ashen-haired acquaintance greeting him with that coy look on his face. However…

"…I finally found you."

He stares at his visitor, a young male that had hair that was as black as night, his body clad in blue fatigues while a great sword lay stowed on his back. The impromptu visit of this stranger had already surprised him to say the least, but what caught his attention the most was this man's eyes.

Though the color of this young male's orbs was blue while his was dyed red, for some reason they greatly reminded him of his own.

The sadness and grief that swirled inside of them was apparent.

This man… he was the same as him.

* * *

And here we are at last, back to the present time once again. At first look it seems like an awful lot of work for something as simple as fleshing out a character's background but don't be fooled my dear readers… for this prologues are more than meets the eye! (dun-dun-dun-dunnnnn) Anyway, RnR please and here's to a good start for the LakeShow's season plus an awesome lineup of boxing matches for November (Sergio be tappin' PWill's ass bitches!).


	6. The Undeserving

Yo! Madlang People! It's been awhile, huh? Sorry for the long ass update. All I can really say is that I've been busy so let's leave it at that. Completely depressed by the LakeShow being on a losing streak (to a bunch of scrub teams no less), but at least I'm still on a bit of a high thanks to Pac mexicutioning that cheater Plasterito. But to Cheato's defense, the guy went out like a warrior and that I can respect as a boxing fan. Now if only Floyd could find his "urge", then things will get real interesting. So anyway, here's Chapter 1.

**

* * *

CHAPTER 1**

Faster…

Run faster…

I need to run faster..!

He chants these words inside of his head like a mantra, his unkempt black mane drenched in a mixture of sweat and blood. Though every part of his body ached and pleaded for him to rest, he drowns these cries out with those words.

Faster…

Run faster…

I need to run faster..!

He scolds and belittles his efforts… himself. He pushes his body to the brink. He feels his physical frame approaching its limit. For weeks he had not seen the sight of food and so his tongue had shriveled up and become useless. For days he had not seen a single drop of water and so his throat felt dry like the desert.

He feels his body slowly breaking apart but his unrelenting will forces it to hold together like cheap glue putting the broken pieces of a glass vase in place, his fiery azure eyes reflecting his inner desire.

In front of him he sees the countless shadows that lurked within the hidden space of this long winding path that he had trekked for the past five days. Like Hyenas they lie and wait in the darkness, patiently watching… longing for him to show even the tiniest hint of weakness. But after days of waiting, their patience had finally grown thin as they now started to attack randomly in droves. His trusted sword had already been bathed by the blood of these filthy menaces, its blade stained by their crimson liquid.

Faster…

Run faster…

I have to run faster..!

Again they attack without inhibition or fear of being struck by his great weapon, their shapeless forms baring their fangs at him. And in response his hand quickly reaches for the sword that was safely stored on his back. Like a madman he slashes, hacks, and stabs at all that came within the scope of his sight. Each swing is delivered with deadly precision, the ends of the pink ribbon that was wrapped around the hilt of his blade swaying with each fatal blow. But still he does not go unscathed as two of the abominable creatures manage to wound his already scarred body. Their jagged teeth bite down on the battered meat of his left thigh before he could exact his vengeance upon them by skewering through their thick underbellies with the tip of his sword. He couldn't help but wince because of the pain as he cursed these filthy creatures that dared to get in the way of his goal.

He had spent the better part of two and a half years in search of this place. He had braved through numerous storms and blizzards, travelled the unforgiving desert of the Sahara with nothing but a measly bottle of water as his only provision, and challenged the highest peaks that this world had to offer. He had dragged his travel weary body from one end of this earth all the way to the other.

And now, at long last, his journey was about to come to a close… He'd be damned before he allowed these insignificant specks to stop him.

Faster…

Run faster…

I'm almost there..!

The path starts to widen and what was once a tunnel 15 feet in diameter had now tripled in size. The floor made of gravel and dirt that lay underneath his steel-soled boots started to become slippery as the blood from his wounds and the dead corpses of his enemies that numbered in the hundreds began to soak the floor. His legs that had barely tasted rest buckle not once but twice. Each time he falls he looks at his reflection that was mirrored in the blade of the sword that he held in his hand, his own image mocking him… telling him stand up… to not let all the pain and hardship that he had endured go to waste. He stands every time he falls. He rises to his feet in order to run again even though his legs cry out for rest, even though his wounds continue to bleed.

Faster…

Run faster…

She's waiting for me..!

Finally he sees it, that shining gate of jade and emerald that served as the entrance of his destination. Like a beacon of hope it stood tall and sturdy just as that man of death had told him. Seeing such a sight almost brought him to tears as it assuaged the physical pain that he felt. In the back of his mind all he could think about was _her_…

_She_ had waited for him for so long… too long in fact.

But now it would all end here…

At last he would be able to keep his end of their promise.

His hand reaches out to the jeweled gate, its green hue reminding him of his beloved's warm emerald gaze.

"Aeris… I…-!"

He lay there on the stone floor, a full meter away from the emerald jade entrance that was once only a few inches away from him just seconds ago. His body had been unceremoniously thrown away like a ragdoll. A mix of surprise and shock was carved in his facial expression. He runs toward the gate again and just as his fingers were about to touch its surface made of jade he is suddenly flung to the other side once more.

Shock and surprise would soon be replaced by confusion… and then depression.

Again and again he would try to force his way through the closed gate, hoping, wishing, that he could but lay just one finger on it… but he would be denied with every try.

Desperation then turns into anger…

He slashes at the gate with his loyal sword. He pulls out every move, every technique that he knew until his own hands felt numb. But even with all of that, the prideful gate of emerald and jade remained closed, not a single scratch could be seen on its frame.

Thereafter, anger turns into despair…

It was all for naught. This road that he thought would lead him to the finish line of his quest was nothing more than another dead end… just another false hope to be added to a long line of many disappointments. His azure eyes begin to water as his own tears mixed with the sweat and grime on his face. He screams at the very top of his lungs, his voice echoing through this hollow bastion as he feels his parched throat seemingly about to rip.

For all that he had endured; fate still deemed him unworthy of _her_.

Had he not suffered enough?

Had he really… not suffered enough?

* * *

'…Ranma'

Her supple lips whispered gently to the air as her tired eyelids start to flick open. Her eyes start to refocus their sight and the once blurry image of her small one-bedroom apartment begins to clear.

Her view of the empty room was slanted which shouldn't have been that much of a surprise being that her head was now resting on her desk. Her finely shaped hands cradled her forehead, serving as her own makeshift pillow, and underneath those same hands were the somewhat crumpled pages of a rather thick book. On its left page was a wall of text whose letters were as small as ants. And on its right was a drawing of a human male that was turned inside out, certain bits of the picture was covered by strands from her disheveled blue locks. It was really no great wonder why she had ended up falling asleep having tried to read and cram so much information in her brain in just one sitting.

She raises her weary head from its resting position as her hands follow to rub her eyes. It was only then that she noticed the inherent wetness of her cheeks.

She must've cried in her sleep again.

Dreaming of that same dream… again.

"_Forget me… and live happily for the rest of your life."_

That was what he had asked of her. In her dreams those words and the recollection of their final meeting is played out in front of her repeatedly like some cruel joke from the gods. And though the frequency of that dream had lessened compared to how it was before, the impact of it had remained the same… no, it may have even gotten worse.

Time does not heal wounds… it only makes them deeper.

For three years she had tried her best to grant his wish and yet such an endeavor had proven to be quite the difficult task. Although she had made great strides and had finally resigned herself to the fact that he would never come back to her… never appear on that empty rooftop again… the pain of him leaving was still a great one. And just when she thinks that she is ready to take the healing of her wounded heart and pride to the next stage, that dream would always come and haunt her like a phantom granting her no rest… reminding her of what she had lost.

Still she had to keep on.

She had to move forward.

For both her sake and his as well.

He will never return to her no matter how much she wished.

But even though she wanted to forget, fate had deemed her unworthy of peace, tormenting her with dreams of loss and abrupt goodbyes…

Had she not suffered enough?

Had she really… not suffered enough?

* * *

And so it begins again (for real this time!). Updates will be random (although a few more reviews might give me the urge ::wink::) since I'll be swamped as fuck this coming X-mas season, not to mention I'll be in hiding once Dec. 25 comes since my nieces, nephews, and godchildren will be hunting for my head. I've got like 10 of them so my wallets going to take a beating (but not if I've got anything to say about that shit!). And to those of you who are readers of my other fic "Crossroads", the next Chapter will probably come sometime within the first three months of 2011 so I'm apologizing in advance. Anyway, RnR please.

**Author's Note:** It seems that some of you have had a bit of a hard time connecting the prologue with the overall story. I'm thinking that the confusion between when the prologue actually occurs is adding to the whole mess so here's how its chronologically arranged: (1) Events of FF7 take place… (2) Events post FF7 (Cloud's geostigma all the way to his death) occurs… (3) Prologue (think early 17th century Japan)… (4) Dreams of An Angel… (5) Chapter 1 of Forever and Never. That's all that I can really offer for help since I might end up giving too much info and spoil the fun.


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